black and white
by letseatzombies
Summary: "I couldn't ever love Dallas Winston. His heart's too hot to hold." / OC POV. RATED M FOR CUSSING.
1. the beginning

The fact that we were being sent away to Tulsa, Oklahoma, made me kind of mad. I liked New York! What's wrong with living freely? What's wrong with gangs? Apparently, my mom didn't agree to my lifestyle. She hated that I was always getting into troubles with the fuzz, and hanging out with 'violent people'. She can't really change the way I live, so she just sent me and my brother away. Now I've visited Tulsa a couple of times when I was younger since I had a grandpa who lived here, and let's just say that there aren't that much going around, although it probably changed since the last time I visited. I was nine then.

And so my journey began when me and my brother, Tony, walked into our grandpa's… err… house. Honestly, it looked more like a dirty garage then a home. I quickly exchanged looks of disgust with Tony before entering further into this 'house'.

Tony and I are twins but we look nothing alike. He's one tough hood, and anyone smart enough wouldn't dare to make him upset. He even scared me at times. Maybe it was the way his green eyes burned into yours, or his buff body that he spent years to contain. He reminded me of our dad, who ran away with a blonde tramp when we were three. They were both intimidating and strong, but Tony really cared about me. Back at home, everyone made sure that Tony was happy, and stayed happy. No one wanted to make him angry. You do whatever he says, and you're safe. If he wasn't family, then I wouldn't like him so much. But he's my brother, so he treated me different than the rest. One time, a drunk guy bumped into him in the streets and Tony beat him up so hard that he knocked the guy's front teeth out. It was a bloody mess.

I, on the other hand, am completely different. I'm no angel, and believe me when I say that, but my looks don't define my personality much. I have green eyes with a hint of blue and light wavy brown hair that reaches down to my back. My friend's used to call me 'dollface' and I hated it. I'm proud of my body though. I don't look like my mom or my dad. Tony used to always tell me I was adopted, since I didn't look like any of them. I didn't act like any of them either. I get into trouble a lot, but I'm real nice unless you get on my nerves. I have a short temper so I can be 'a little devil' like Tone always says. I'm the type of girl who's used to being around guys. Most girls bugged me. You get used to it if you lived with a hood like my brother.

Tony treated me nice though. He took me to places and showed me things. He was always telling me his adventures and all the mess he's gone into. I sometimes wonder why anyone hasn't gone and blown his head off. He could be a real pain in the ass. He was real fun to be around though, and that's why I loved him so much. He's reckless, getting into fights and stuff, but he took responsibility of me. He let me do whatever I want but if he sensed danger, he got real protective. It's kinda funny 'cause he's only thirty minutes older than me. It's all good because we both trust each other real well. He's always been there for me, unlike my parents. My mom was real strict and uptight so she never gave me any freedom, but that never stopped me from sneaking out. Besides, she was always too busy working.

Tony was the only one in this world that I truly trusted with my life. Our friends back in New York thought that was strange because brothers usually treated their sisters like a tagalong, but Tony never did that. Our relationship was special and nobody really understood that.

"This house is shit." Tony said, and I sniffed in agreement. He was always honest. "You call this a house? God, I could already tell that this is gonna be a living hell."

This place literally was a dump house. There was trash everywhere, empty plates left unwashed in the sink, a broken roof, and a torn up sofa with an old man sleeping on top. It reeked of a strange smell, which I was guessing to be the molded food. Didn't he ever clean? I'm not the type to clean either, but my room never got this messy. I wouldn't be surprised if I found a dry skeleton in there somewhere.

"Gramps?" I called out softly to the scrawny figure on the couch. He stirred quietly but woke up a few seconds later and a forced grin replaced his tired expression.

"Trish, Tony… Had a nice trip?"

I could sense the dread in his voice. He probably even forgot that we were going to be living with him from now on. And that was totally cool with me. It wasn't like he was the best grandpa in the world. He barely did shit for us, so we made sure we were a pain in the ass to him. It was simple and easy. When grandma was alive, he used to be more active. He used to tell us about his life back then and how he helped the slaves and some shit, but after she died, his sorrow was drowned in alcohol. After that, he just got old and drunk. Didn't seem like such a happy life to live.

He looked really different. His white hair was fading, revealing more of his skin. His wrinkles were creased in deeply, and I could tell that he was aging quickly. His arms and legs were like bony twigs, and I felt that if I touched them, they'd break and crumble into a pile of dust. I couldn't imagine myself as an old lady. It scared me a bit, to know that one day, we're all gonna end up looking like him and all the other old people in the world.

"Define nice." I muttered.

"How's your mother?"

"Fantastic."

She really wasn't. My mom… she was someone strange. She liked having things perfectly and if it wasn't the way she wanted, then she made this whole big fuss. She was never happy with us. If we did what we were supposed to do, then she'll lecture us on how we should listen to her more and how we were such failures and we couldn't do shit. But I guess I sometimes pushed her to those points too. She just really got on my nerves! We just didn't dig each other. It's hard to believe that she used to love me and take care of me when I was younger. Our personalities didn't clash well so we were arguing all the time. We were both stubborn in our own ways.

After a few awkward exchanged looks, I decided to unpack my stuff in the empty room upstairs but Tony interrupted. "Trish, go buy some cigarettes, will ya? I really could use some right now."

I gave him a nod and was about to head out, but I remembered that I spent all my money during the ride here. "Got some cash on you?"

I left the dump with a pocket full of cash and headed towards the gas station that we drove by earlier. I was hoping that there would be some part-time jobs open so I could fill in. I wasn't gonna keep asking Tony for cash 'cause I can't pay back. And plus, it'll give me some extra money to spend on what I want, not that there was anything interesting here.

I missed New York. I missed my people back there. I hated this boring old town. Stupid Tulsa. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

With a sigh, I reached the gas station. The first time I saw was the sight of girls crowding around the counter. Their giggles were loud and fake.

I really hate girls like that. Girls that think they can get everything by just blinking an eye and doing something sexy. Girls that think they've got it all. Girls that just don't understand that not all guys are fools that falls for their stupid tricks. Girls that thinks they're perfect. When in reality, they're just humiliating their selves. If you want a guy to like you, than do it right and don't just stand around and giggle your cute little butts off. Girls like them made me ashamed of being a female. I wasn't like that and don't plan on being like them.

I slightly rolled my eyes and tried to push my way through so I could actually buy something, unlike these flirts. Instead, I received harsh glares from the girls. Well, well. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I irritably cleared my throat loudly to get their attention, but only a few of them turned to look. "Wait your turn, you stupid greaser." I heard one of them whisper.

That made me mad. Greaser? What was that, some kind of insult?

But it was my first day here. I was too tired to argue with them. I walked out and went through from the back. I'll just sneak in from the back door. I told Tony I'd get him the cigarettes. He wouldn't be too happy if I came home unhanded while my excuse is 'too crowded'.

And so I did.

The light was pretty dim and there were many counters with car parts on them. It must be the supplies room. It kinda gave me the creeps. I wasn't the biggest fan of dark places. It wasn't called being a coward. I just didn't like it. I remember getting lost in a hospital at night. I guess that's how it started. Now if I just went through that door…

"Are you lost, girlie?"

A voice stopped me and I spun around to see who it was. There were two guys. One was a tall and lean kid about my age, dressed in a pair of dirty jeans and a white tank top with stains on them. He must be a worker or something. He didn't look too sharp though. He was chomping on a candy bar and a bottle of Pepsi was in his hand. He shoved on a cap on his greasy hair. Behind him was a kid with side-burns and a wide grin. He was wearing jeans and a Mickey Mouse shirt. He, too, was drinking Pepsi.

I felt a bit weird just standing there, so I finally said something. "No."

"Are you a soc?"

And there goes the name-calling. I didn't tolerate disrespect, and by the way he said 'soc' didn't exactly go under the impression that it was a good thing to be called.

"I'ma girl. Not a _soc_, not a _greaser_." I snapped.

I don't like insults. I really don't. Back in New York, nobody messed with me. It was not only because Tony was my older brother. I could handle fights myself. But I had a reputation for being pretty tough, for a girl. I've been in knife fights, and gotten scars from them too. I'm not scared of much. New York hardened me. Hardened Tony too. I remember the first time I got jumped. I was eight years old, and was coming home from a friend's house. I used to wear dresses and laces back then. Anyways, it was a group of middle school kids, and I don't know. They just ganged up on me. I fought back as hard as I can but I ended up going home with a black eye. My mom didn't care much but Tony looked really pissed. I think he felt guilty about it 'cause he wasn't there to protect me. I forgive him. He can't be perfect.

"You dress like a greaser." The one in the side-burns added, and I could feel my face flushing.

Did he just make fun of the way I dress? Sure, I didn't wear fashionable stuff, but it wasn't my fault. I can't afford those kinds of things. I looked down at myself and examined myself for the first time in a long time. I was wearing shorts which revealed my long legs, and a pair of black boots. I had on a black leather jacket and a loose tank top underneath. My hair was in two loose braids which hung down below my breasts. A dog tag chain was wrapped around my neck with my initials – TB. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much of a hood I looked like. I never really paid attention to what I wore.

He must have realized the slight hurt in my expression because he quickly added. "It ain't a bad thing! You've got a pretty face. And besides, we're greasers too."

Before I was able to reply, the tall guy walked over to me. "What are you doing back here?"

"I couldn't get through to the counter. Why are there so many girls? Is there some movie star that works here or something?"

They laughed but I was serious. I didn't understand the crowd. What was so special about this gas station? It seemed like any other gas station to me if it weren't for the girls.

"You're pretty damn close. Here, I'll get rid of the girls so you can buy your stuff. They never buy shit anyway."

I followed the two back into the store, and watched as the guy started yelling at the girls to leave. I smiled at the sound of their groans and frowns as they were literally forced out of the store. Once they were gone, the store was much emptier and quieter. And then I saw what the whole fuss was about it. It was a guy.

He wasn't just any guy; he was really cute. He was the kind of guy that'll appear in movies, kinda like a Hollywood actor or something. He had dark-gold hair which was combed back with tons of hair grease. He reminded me of a model; maybe it was his sensitive figure. But you know how most handsome guys are usually dicks? I couldn't sense that in this guy. He seemed natural. He seemed fresh. He was dressed in a blue flannel and a white tank top.

He seemed a bit relieved when all the girls left, as if he was able to breathe again. He grinned at us as we headed over.

"Hey, Two-Bit. When'd ya get here?" He said, as he playfully punched the guy with the side-burns.

"A few minutes ago. We found a lost kitten." He joked and pushed me out to the front. Honestly, I didn't know why they were even talking to me. They didn't even know my name. Didn't they find it awkward or anything?

The handsome one turned towards me and smiled. "Hey, I've never seen you around. Are ya new?"

I nodded. "I just moved here from New York."

The tall one hopped onto the counter and sat down, but his expression looked surprised. "Wild side New York?"

Side-burns whooped out and gave out a loud laugh. "We've got a hellcat here!"

"I'm Steve," The tall one said with a grin.

"And I'm Two-Bit!" Side-burns called out.

"I'm Sodapop," The handsome one finally said with a warm smile. "Welcome to the neighborhood."

I was actually surprised at how kindly they treated me. I could tell they already considered me as one of them, a greaser, because they seemed to dislike the socs.

"I'm Trish."

They all smiled at me and before I realized it, I was too.

"Greasers are the kids who live on the East Side." Sodapop explained. "We get treated poorly 'cause we're not rich and we get in trouble with the fuzz."

Two-Bit piped in too. "And Socs are stinkin' rich kids who live on the West. They got everything nice."

So I found out that this town had a whole rivalry going on between the greasers and the socs. They both treated each other like dirt.

I chatted with the three for a while. It was nice to have some people that greeted me nicely on my first day. And plus, I could relate to them. They reminded me of my buddies back at home, except nicer. Soda lived with his older and younger brother, and lost his parents in an accident. He was a High School dropout, like me. He and Steve worked at the DX to gain some money. Two-Bit was a wisecracker and a bum, according to them. He was a happy person in general.

I suddenly remembered Tony and quickly bought the cigarettes. "I'd better get home before my brother busts my head in for being so late with his packs."

"Sounds like a charmer," Two-Bit said sarcastically, and I nodded with a smile.

I said bye to the boys and headed on home.

Maybe Tulsa wasn't so bad after all.


	2. hello trouble

It took one week to finish cleaning up the house.

Surprisingly, it wasn't so dirty upstairs. Maybe it was because gramps didn't really go there. He usually lied on the couch and slept with a bottle of whiskey in his hands. He wasn't an alcoholic or anything though. Or, at least I hoped so. I drank at times, but I wasn't addicted. In fact, I never got rip-roarin' drunk. Tony did, but I didn't. I don't like how drunk people act. Rubbing up on everything and shit. I really don't like drunk people, but I like beer. I don't find that strange at all, but Tony did. It didn't stop him for getting too drunk though. He can be a bit insensitive towards other people's feelings, even to me.

I was actually proud of our work. All the dishes were washed, the windows were clear again; the ground was trash-less. It even smelled good. Everything seemed perfect.

Except for the roof.

The roof still had a giant hole in it and Tony decided that instead of fixing it himself, he'll just hire someone. He found a guy roofing houses while wandering around and offered him extra cash to fix the room. The guy agreed. Tony was lazy at times. Since my grandpa was sleeping upstairs, it was my duty to stay home while he went out and got free time.

I stepped into the shower, and while the water ran down my body, I thought about things.

I bet Tony was gonna hit the bar or something and get drunk. Or meet new gangs that he could show off his muscles with. I hope he finds people that he likes. He had to sacrifice a lot coming here. His gang, his girlfriend, his reputation, his life. But mostly his girlfriend.

Her name was Liv Miller and she was the prettiest girl I've ever met. She was one of the 'richies', and her parents hated Tony. They were the kind of people that liked to act disdainful towards the lower class; the ones with little money. People like us. But their relationship still went on. She had long, blonde hair and her eyes were light blue that twinkled everytime she smiled. She was like a model. It's weird because Tony was never one to be in relationships. It was mostly one night stands, but Liv was different. She was strong and feminine and so smart. She was never judgmental of anything. She had it hard at home because she was always under pressure to get good grades, to look good all the time, to be on her best behavior. They were always shoving religion down her throat. I have to admit, I didn't like her at first because she was only using Tony to piss off her parents, but it turned into real love. She treated me like a little sister. She really was beautiful. I remember the hurt in her face when we told her we were leaving. I wouldn't tell anyone, but Tony cried that night. He never cried, but Liv really was someone special.

Once I was finished, I stepped out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around my wet body. I dried myself and my hair and then ran into my room.

I liked my room just fine. There was a small bed in the corner and a closet. The walls were covered in posters of my favorite bands and movies I liked, and a few other of England. I've always wanted to go there. I also put a simple carpet in there too because the floor color was hideous. It was smaller than the room I had back in New York, but I didn't mind. I didn't do much in there other than to sleep.

I stepped into a pair of shorts and put on a white tank top and a red flannel. I grabbed a brush and combed through my wavy hair and tied it into a messy bun. I slipped into some black boots and headed down the stairs.

The door rang when I finished eating my breakfast.

I stuffed the rest of the bread into my mouth and ran to go answer the door. When I opened it, a muscular guy stood there, a supply box in his hands.

"I'm here to fix the roof."

His voice sounded rough and although he was smiling, his eyes looked hard and cold. He was handsome and looked very smart. I didn't mean to stare so much, but this guy was huge! His muscles were obviously visible through his tight, black shirt. He reminded me of superman.

"Come on in," I said and let the man in.

I showed him the hole and he went right to work. Boy, he sure was a hard worker. He didn't goof around or nothing. He just worked, and was doing pretty damn good. I just sat and watched. He was really big, like my brother.

'They'd be really great friends,' I thought as I sipped on Pepsi. 'They're both enormous.'

He was halfway done when I gave him a cup of coffee for break.

"Thank you," He said and gratefully took the cup.

I studied him for a while and said. "You sure look young to be fixing roofs. How old are you?"

"I'm twenty," He said. "And I've got to. I have two mouths to feed every day."

"Wife and kid?" I guessed.

"Brothers. They're my responsibilities since our parents are gone."

That's sad. It must be horrible to lose a parent. My mom and I don't get along but I wouldn't want her dead. I felt bad for him. He must have taken a whole load of responsibilities after they died. He didn't look twenty at all. He looked older, but too young to be fixing roofs. I'll usually see old men, in their forties, fixing and housing roves. He didn't exactly fit the description for a forty year old guy.

"So are you new here? I don't recognize you." He asked.

I smiled and nodded as I placed my Pepsi onto the counter. "Yup. I just moved here from New York with my brother."

I wondered if everyone knew each other in this neighborhood. It was like that back at home too. Everyone knew each other's names, their background, and all that itty bitty detail. It was like a family I've never really had other than Tony. It felt great to know that you were being surrounded with people that loved you. I think that was what my problem is; I craved people. I liked crowds. I never liked being alone.

"It must be a big change for you."

"You have no idea." I laughed.

It was about noon, and he was finished with the roof and I grabbed the cash from the shelf and took him to the door. I handed him the money with a smile.

"Thanks for the help," I looked at him, and tried to remember if he introduced himself or not. "Um…"

"Darrel Curtis. But you can call me Darry." He reached out his large hands and I shook it appreciatively.

"Thanks for the help, Darry. I'm Trish."

I watched him leave and wondered about things. He must really have it tough. I wondered what Tony would do if he had to take on full responsibility of me. If he had to take on a job to feed me every day. If he had to be the 'dad'. I really doubt he could do it. The sight of Tony being a dad made me want to laugh. But Darry had no choice. It was his life style. What was it like to have your parents dead? How did that feel like? It must be horrible.

Poor Darry.

I was getting bored of hanging out at the house all the time. It was time that I'd go out and hunt some action. I didn't like to sit around and do nothing, especially at the house. There was no action here.

That night, Tony told me that he was gonna take me to Buck's party. I didn't know who the hell this 'Buck' was, but from what Tony told me, he threw some pretty wild parties. I agreed to go along since I had nothing better to do.

I liked parties. They were fun and gave me something to do. I never went home after a big one, 'cause I'll fall asleep at their house and end up getting home around the mornings. Then mom would start her boring lectures and start yelling at us for being irresponsible bums. Ain't our fault.

Once we stepped foot into the house, I then understood on what Tony meant about the 'wild parties'. There were guys spilling beer on each other, girls dressed too little, crazy dancing, and everything that you'll normally see in a party, except 'wilder'. It even made the ones in New York look like shit.

"Tony!" A drunken slur reached my ears and I turned to see a blonde goof stumbling toward us, a can of beer in his hand. I didn't know whether he was drunk, or just plain stupid. Maybe it was both. "Who's the cutie?"

Tony didn't seem to be disgusted by him though since he gave the goof a slap on the back. "Hey, Buck! This is Trish, my sister."

So this was Buck. I wasn't too surprised. From past experiences, guys who throw wild parties aren't all that sharp.

"Hiya, Trish. So, whaddya say on kissing a face like this?" Buck made a pouty face and I grimaced.

"Never in hell would I kiss a face like yours."

"Feisty," He grunted. "You break my heart."

I gave Tony a look but he wasn't paying attention to us. He was already chugging down beer and disappearing into the huge crowd.

"Tone!" I called out but he was already gone.

I sighed and decided to walk around while he gulped down cans of beer.

I felt a bit out of place there. I didn't know anyone there, but I could feel the stares as I walked by. This wasn't like me at all. I was usually the first one to be dancing, but this wasn't New York anymore. I'm used to guys staring at me, pushing all of my self-esteem aside. I've received many compliments on my appearances, and I've gotten used to it. But the girls didn't like me so much. I think of myself as an average lookin' girl, but other guys don't seem to think so.

Trouble follows me around like a lost puppy, y'know. It had me on a leash.

Even in New York, I was always getting in trouble with the fuzz. And most of it weren't my fault! I may have helped a couple of times but it was mostly my friends. I just followed their steps. Somehow, I was always the one getting caught. I'm not so good at lying, so the cops always knew whether I was lying or not. I've been arrested a couple of times for no reason. They just don't like me so much 'cause I was a pain in the ass, I admit.

Before I knew it, I bumped into somebody which caused his beer to pour down our shirts. Oh great. This was definitely my idea of going out and having a great time.

"Ah, shit." I heard him hiss irritably.

I looked up at the guy and was about to snap, but stopped when I saw his face.

I knew him.

I recognized his blonde hair that almost seemed white; those hard, cold blue eyes, filled with hate for the world; that rough voice that sent chills down my spine; that dangerous tone he used all the time.

I knew him. I knew him all too well.

He seemed to have recognized me too because his irritated expression turned into surprise.

And then a deadly smirk.

"Whatcha doing here, doll?"

The voice belonged to the one and only.

Dallas Winston.

"…Fuck."


	3. reunited with the devil

"Dally?"

I was shocked. I knew Dally from New York. He and Tony were big enemies. They hated each other and were always getting into fights. Tony actually got sent to the hospital once when Dally busted his leg with a pipe. He was like a walking bomb. He was always fighting and drinking. He was a mess, and even Tony warned me about him. He told me to stay away from him. But I didn't listen. I must admit, I had a thing for bad boys. There was just something irresistibly sexy about his cocky attitude. He and I hooked up a bunch of times at parties, and free time. He was an asshole but that's what made the whole thing fun. The thrill was exciting. If Tony ever found out about what we've done, he'd break my arm. He seriously hated him.

Who'd have known that he came to Tulsa, out of all the places he could've gone. He looked the same, but it's been two years since I saw him last.

"What, sweets? Ain't you glad to see me again?" Dally said, a fake frown plastered onto his face.

Ha. As if I'd be glad to see him.

I was hoping that when he ran away, it'd be the last time I'd ever see him. He was nothing but trouble.

"Don't make me laugh, Dally." I muttered in an annoyed tone.

"How about you and me catch up on the good old days, huh?" He said with a gesture to the stairs.

He was such a pig.

I gave him a fierce glare, and he laughed.

I could tell he was enjoying this. This is what Dallas Winston did. He loved to toy around with people, mock them over and over. It was how he got the rise out of everyone. He enjoyed getting people mad. Hell, he did it for a living! It always worked too.

"At least let me get you something to wear. You're fuckin' wet." He said and motioned to our shirts that were now soaked in beer.

"No."

I knew where that would lead, and I wasn't gonna repeat the same mistakes over. I was done with dealing with Dally. I was done.

"Don't be so stubborn."

"No."

"I won't touch ya."

I laughed and rolled my eyes. Dally couldn't keep his hands on himself for five minutes. He loved girls. He loved sex. And he'll use any sneaky tricks to get what he wanted.

"I'm serious." He said.

"Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England."

He narrowed his eyes at me and then grinned. "You haven't changed at all, Trish."

I blinked at those words. It's been years and he still remembered how I was. He usually forgot about people as they came and go. It wasn't like he cared. Dally never gave a shit about what he did. 'I can do whatever the fuck I want!' He used to always say. He realized the effect he had on people and he used that to his advantage. Life was one big game to him.

My hard expression loosened up a bit and I gave out a weak sigh. I could never win against Dallas, could I?

"Keep your hands to yourself." I warned and followed him up the stairs.

I could tell he's been here many times before because he knew his way around, and it was a pretty big place. He stopped at a wooden door and leaned in closely, as if he was listening to see if anyone was in there. He seemed to be satisfied in what he heard, 'cause he was smiling wickedly.

Then he swung open the door, and revealed two, naked bodies on the bed.

The two figures stopped what they were doing, and my eyes widened. It wasn't as if I haven't seen or heard people having sex, but I didn't interrupt people while they were in the moment of heat. But this was what Dally did. He liked to embarrass people on purpose. I hate to admit it but… it was a little funny.

I held back my laughter though, as Dally pointed towards the door.

"Out." He hissed out.

The girl squealed and rushed out of the door and the guy followed after her with his hands covering his 'private area'. Once the door slammed shut, I busted into laughter.

"You're an asshole, Dal." I said, my cheeks red from laughing so hard.

This reminded me of the old days. They were fun. Sneaky, but fun. It was still a little bit of a shock to see Dallas here. I mean, Dallas fuckin' Winston! Damn.

I plopped myself down onto the bed as I watched him search in the closet for a shirt or something. He still looked sexy, as always. He wasn't movie-star handsome, like Soda, but he was dangerously handsome. You know what I mean? I don't know. Something about him… There was something.

"Here."

He tossed a grey flannel at me and I caught it with both hands. I turned around and slipped out of my wet shirt. I shivered a little from the sudden absence of not wearing my shirt, so I quickly put on the flannel. When I turned to look back at Dally, he was half naked.

See? I knew he was gonna try and torture me like this. 'Cause he can't touch me and he was standing there without a shirt on. What the fuck was his motive here anyway?

"Like what you see?" He asked, and leaned over on the wall, a playful smirk lingering on his lips.

I headed towards the door. I wasn't gonna take this. Before I was able to walk out, he grabbed my wrist and spun me around to face him.

"Admit it, Trish. You want me."

"Let go of me."

"You like to have my hands all around your –"

"_Fuck you._"

Then he kissed me.

His rough lips crashed over mines and my mind went blank. It happened so fast, that I didn't know what to do, so I violently shoved him off and slapped him hard in the face.

Oh shit.

It went quiet for a while and my hands flew to my mouth in shock. Did I just slap Dallas Winston? Uh oh. I'm really dead now. "Dally… I'm really…" I tried to push words out of my mouth but I was mumbling and I couldn't really get them out. My mind was racing. What should I do? What should I do? He's gonna kill me.

'Just apologize, Trish. Just do it.'

"I'm sorry, Dal-" I started but his eyes pierced into mines, and his cold eyes were blazing in anger.

"Once a bitch, always a bitch."

…

What?

I watched as he stormed out of the room, left to stand there and wonder. He seemed angry, but I'm surprised he didn't bust my head in for marking his skin. It didn't matter that I was a girl. I've seen him fight with girls before and he wasn't afraid to blow out.

I shook my head in frustration and sat back down onto the bed.

Trouble seemed to find a way in my life, one way or the either. This time, it chose the shape of Dallas Winston.


	4. we're only teenagers

"Pass me a stick."

The sun had gone down, and the warm spring air suddenly turned chilly. Me and Tony were sitting at this large field, smoking off a pack. I could tell that Tony was mad at me because his voice was unusually cold. Last night, he saw me going upstairs with Dally. He probably thought we were doing something, but we weren't! But I didn't try to convince that to him. Tony didn't change his mind. He saw what he saw, and it might've looked pretty bad.

I passed my brother a whole pack and glanced out at the open field, a cigarette placed between my lips. There was a boy there too. He looked young. He seemed to be trying to find something, but I couldn't quite see what. I watched as he bent down and picked up a football, a small smile replacing the worried expression on his face. He reminded me of a lost orphan or something. He wasn't dressed too sharp, and I guessed he was a greaser too.

Tony suddenly stood up and walked off. He didn't even tell me where he was going. Maybe being around me was pissing him off. He held grudges for a long time you know. Once he was mad, it was best to just let him be. Nobody dared spoke to him when he was upset. Otherwise, you'll get your head knocked in.

I closed my eyes and smashed the cigarette butt to the ground. I was about to head on home; until I spotted a blue Mustang pull up besides the lot. I didn't know why, but I somewhat had a bad feeling about this.

I stood and watched as four guys staggered out onto the lot. Unlike the boy, they were dressed nicely. 'They must be socs,' I thought to myself as I watched them approached the poor looking boy.

The socs were saying something to the greaser and by the look of the greaser's face, they weren't too good.

And then he ran.

"What the fuck…" I whispered under my breath as the greaser tried to run away from the other socs. But they were too fast. Three socs caught him by the arm, and the other one started to beat up on him.

I've seen plenty of people getting jumped back in New York. I've gotten jumped tons of time too, but I've never jumped people. Tony has. My friends have. But I didn't think it was right. It wasn't fun. It wasn't exciting. It was cruel. It made me sick to see the enjoyment that people got out of beating up each other. A fight, on the other hand, is different. You have a reason to get into fights. Jumping others is for fun; like a sport.

I was running over to them, and by the time I reached the group, the greaser was cut up bad. Blood was splattered on his white t-shirt. I almost wanted to vomit. There was a huge gash from this temple to his cheekbones. Who could do this to someone?

"Hey, cutie." One of the socs mustered out, and I could tell that most of them were drunk. I could smell the beer on their breath.

I turned to glare fiercely at them. I was pissed off.

"Pick on somebody your own size, you fuckin' pieces of shit!"

"Watch your mouth, girly."

I stormed over to him and gave him a hard punch in the face. He stumbled back and fell on the grass with a thump. The one with dark hair turned towards me and rose up his fists as if to say 'back off'. I could see the rings on his fingers and knew that he was the one who caused the wounds on the boy's face. He smiled mockingly at me.

I continued to stare at him, my mind filling up with frustration. I was ready to blow, but thankfully, they all ran back to their precious Mustang and drove off.

I hated assholes like him that thought they were the king of the world. He couldn't even fight one on one! He couldn't do that so he had his little buddies to help do the dirty work. He was just a coward.

I crouched down next to the boy, a worried expression replacing my anger. "I'm gonna get you some help, alright?"

All I heard was a whimper. Poor boy. He must be scared out of his mind. I looked around and hoped for somebody to be strolling around.

After a long five minutes of wishing, I spotted three figures walking around. I recognized the two of them, but the third one was new to me.

"Soda! Steve!"

I called out loudly and waved my arms wildly. I really wanted to help out this guy. He reminded me of the first time I got jumped. I remember how it felt to walk home alone with that black eye. I remember the pain. I didn't want him to feel that same way.

Soda was the first one to get there, and then Steve and the other kid. They all looked really white.

"Aw, shit… Johnny…" Soda whispered out and I realized that they must've known the kid.

It was weird, because everyone started showing up at that time. First was Two-Bit, who came to a halt besides the boys. He wasn't grinning and he didn't speak at all. Then came Darry who was running as fast as he can but as soon as he saw Johnny, he skidded to a stop. 'Darry must be Soda's brother,' I thought in my head when I saw him exchange looks with Soda and remembered them both talking about having brothers.

The last but not least, was Dallas. He completely ignored me, but was swearing under breath and looking away with a sick look on his face. I was surprised at Dally. He's seen worse than this. He's seen people dead on the streets of New York! Why did he look so pissed off?

I looked at them all, and a pang of guilt suddenly hit me. I could've stopped the socs. I could've gotten Tony and I could've stopped it all.

"Johnny?" Soda whispered out and cradled the young boy in his arms, giving him a small shake.

The boy stirred quietly but replied weakly. "Soda?"

Then he mumbled on but I couldn't quite understand what he was saying. I was too shaken up.

Johnny finally started crying and explained what happened to the other guys. I just listened with my eyes closed. He was staggering as he explained what the socs had called him. They really scared him badly.

"Alright, Johnnycakes. We'll get you to our place…"

I stood up as Darry picked up Johnny from Soda's arms and headed away. I glanced towards Soda who motioned towards me to follow. I did.

The house was a simple place. It was a bit messy but not like our place when we first got here. I saw a picture on the wall of Darry, Soda, the other boy, a beautiful lady, and a tough looking man. A simple family portrait, but it spoke so much. They looked happy.

Darry gently placed Johnny onto the couch and scurried over to a cabinet and brought out a medicine box. He started to treat his wounds, and we all sat down. I placed myself between Soda and Two-Bit. Dally was leaning over the wall, muttering curses to himself. Steve was groaning quietly on the floor. Soda wrapped his arms around his younger brother. I turned to Two-Bit whose face was white as sheet.

I felt bad about this. I had a bad feeling since the Mustang arrived. I could've gotten there sooner!

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.

"I'm sorry." I murmured and Soda looked at me.

"It ain't your fault."

"Yeah," Steve said. "If there was anybody to blame, it's the damn socs!"

We all went quiet again. It was so quiet that I could hear the clock ticking. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Time went by slowly, and Darry was finally done.

Johnny was sleeping and Dally finally lost it.

"I'm gonna kill 'em." I could see the anger flashing dangerously in his eyes. He reminded me of my brother before a fight.

Dally busted out the house, but I knew that he was just gonna get in trouble and the fuzz would show. That would be bad. While the rest of the gang just sat there, I ran after him.

"Dally!" I called out but he was walking fast. He didn't bother to look back at me. He was in his dangerous mood, and it would be the right decision to leave him alone. But I couldn't do that. I knew Dallas. He was just gonna get jailed again and that wouldn't make anything better. It wouldn't erase Johnny's wounds, or the fact that he was jumped that night. I had to stop him, even if it meant getting hurt myself.

"Beating up those socs won't do good!"

"Go home."

"They're only doing this because they want to get a rise out of you guys!"

"I don't care."

"But you care about Johnny."

He spun around to face me, and I really thought he was gonna beat me then and there. I could tell he hesitated a bit.

"You don't know shit, Trish."

I stood there, not budging. "Then help me understand."

He let out a sarcastic laugh and walked away. I just didn't understand.

This wasn't the Dally I remembered. Dally never cared about people other than himself. He didn't beat people just 'cause one of his friends got jumped. He fought because he was bored or somebody paid him, but never for a friend. It was strange.

I watched Dally disappear into the streets.

Things sure were different now.


	5. heart too hot to hold

It's been two days since the incident with Johnny and the socs and I was gonna stop by Soda's house to go check up on them. I didn't know whether Johnny would still be there or not, but might as well give it a try. I was worried about him. He wasn't looking too good when I left. Besides, Darry told me that I'm welcome anytime. They're really nice people, y'know. They were greasers, but not hoods. Like Ponyboy, Soda and Darry's younger brother. He was one pure kid. We talked a little bit before I left. We talked about Johnny. They both seem like real good kids.

I was getting ready to leave the house when Tony woke up. He was sleeping on the couch 'cause he had a huge hangover from a party last night. He was still pissed at me, and I wanted to fix things. I couldn't stand it when he was mad at me.

"Hi, Tone." I said in a hopeful tone, wishing he'd just forgive me already.

He gave me one harsh look before heading into the kitchen. I followed.

"Will you please talk?"

"You're a bitch."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "You're being immature."

He angrily opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of beer. He popped open the cap and turned to look at me.

"You fucked Dallas Winston!"

"I didn't."

I wasn't exactly lying. I mean, me and Dal didn't do anything at Buck's party, and that was what Tony was talking about. I was just… leaving out some facts. Tony doesn't need to know. It's not his business. If I want to sleep with people, then that's my choice. It's not like I ever stopped him from having sex with Liv.

He scoffed and hopped onto the counter, while rolling his eyes. He was a hard ass. You see what I mean when I said that he could be a pain in the ass? Well, this was his moments. He usually didn't act like this but he _really_ hated Dally. They were both cocky, both strong, and both proud.

I was getting tired of his attitude so I raised my fist to punch him, but he quickly grabbed my wrists roughly. Pain jolted through my arms and I winced. Tony doesn't realize how rough he can be.

I hissed and pulled away from him. "Fuck you!" I shouted in anger, and stormed out the house.

Tony was acting strange. Even if he was pissed off, he never used violence to me. Why was he acting like this? It was just Dally. He was never like this. He was scaring me a lot. I rubbed at my wrist where a purple bruise was forming.

I went to the Curtis' house, and knocked on the door. After a few seconds, Ponyboy answered the door.

When he saw me, he smiled and let me in. He was such a sweet kid. When we were talking, he told me about his school and how he was put in good classes 'cause he was smart. He told me about how Darry scolds him a lot, and he told me that Johnny was his best friend. Every few minutes, he'd stop and smile sheepishly because he thought he was talking too much, but I told him to go on. He told me about the whole socs and greasers rivalry and how he wished we were all just normal people without the labels. He was a good kid.

I looked around the room, and saw that Johnny sitting on the couch. When he saw me come in, he suddenly looked shy and nervous. I plopped myself next to him as if it was a normal routine, and gave him a gentle touch on the head. "How're you feeling?"

"I-I'm doing b-better…" He mumbled.

I smiled at him. I didn't mind that he seemed nervous around me, because I was practically a stranger to him. And besides, he must be scared right now. Getting jumped is scary, even though I would never admit it. When I was jumped, I had been jumpy for several months. I just got used to it after a while, 'cause Tony was always there to protect me.

"T-Thank you, miss."

I looked at Johnny in surprise. "For what?"

"For not leaving me at the lot…"

Wow.

He was thanking me for staying by his side after he got jumped? I wasn't heartless. I would never leave an injured kid alone like that. He could've died from blood loss out there, or something. I don't know. And all this time I was guilty for not getting there earlier. Ponyboy was right. Johnny is a good kid.

"No problem, kiddo."

I stayed there for a while. We all played a card game and Ponyboy won two games, Johnny won one, and me – zero. They're pretty good. I told them about life in New York, and they seemed pretty fascinated. Pony asked me how I managed to survive throughout all those years living in the wild city. I replied, my brother protects me. And then I got kind of sad, 'cause Tony was pissed off at me, and I made the situation worse by yelling at him. I told the boys about the fight.

"Is that how you got that bruise?" Ponyboy asked and I glanced down at my wrist. I had forgotten all about that.

"He didn't mean to. He was just mad, that's all."

I left after a few more games, and decided to head on to the DX to give Soda and Steve a visit. Pony told me they'll be there.

Once I got to the gas station, I noticed that there weren't any girls. 'Strange,' I thought to myself as I walked in.

A gloomy aura hung around Soda and Steve. They looked up when I approached them, but I could still sense the sadness in the air.

"Hey, Trish." Soda said, a weak smile replaced his sorrow.

"No girls today?"

"Soda didn't wanna deal with whiny broads today." Steve said and headed into the back room.

I watched him go and turned to look at Soda, who still seemed glum. He must be worried about Johnny.

I realized how tight the gang seemed to be. Ponyboy told me that they were like a family. They stood up for each other no matter what. In New York, I hung out with hoods. They were family, but if one of us killed someone, they'll turn us in for the money. If the fuzz was searching for someone, they spilled their location. They dug each other, but it wasn't the relationship that these greasers had.

"He seemed better today." I brought up.

"I just can't believe Johnny got jumped… He's like our pet, y'know?"

I nodded. I understood why they all loved Johnny so much. He was honest, and pure. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke about things; it just didn't seem like a greaser to me. He wasn't too sharp, but he understood the way things worked.

"He has it rough at home, which makes it even worse." Soda let out a sigh and darted his eyes back to the floor.

"Rough at home? His parents don't treat him right?" I didn't want to seem too eager, but I was curious.

"His dad beats him."

No wonder the boy's so jumpy. I hate hearing parents beating their own kid. My mom would never hit me, no matter how much she couldn't stand me. She didn't believe in that kind of stuff either. Greasers sure do have it hard. Soda, Darry, and Ponyboy don't have parents. Dally hates the world. Johnny is a victim of child abuse. I never really focused on other people's lives because I was always buried in my own problems, but once I see more, they sure do have it rough.

God is cruel, you know. He's real cruel.

I gently placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed softly.

"It'll be alright, Soda."

He turned to give me a faint smile. "Yeah."

Most Greasers are good people, buried beneath all that hair grease, that desperately want action to distract them from their unsatisfying household. Socs were too cold to feel, and had the good end of the stick. Which was better? They were striving for respect outta each other. The world is like a battlefield. You get jumped, you hurt people, you claim victory, you lose. It's sad, 'cause we're only teenagers and we've already been told where we belong and where we don't. Once we break a rule, a punishment comes along. The world works like that, and it shouldn't. What happened to all the peace?

"So, Dally told me about his many 'fun times' with you."

Way to ruin a respectable moment, Soda.

He just grinned that reckless smile, and I scowled at him, but I was glad he's feeling better.

"We all have our mistakes."

I wasn't exactly sure whether I considered Dally a 'mistake'. He was trouble, but I learned a lot about the world from him. He showed me the horrible reality, and helped me understand. I could thank him for what he's shown me, but I wouldn't. Other people saw him as that wild hood that's up to no good, but I saw that hopeless expression hidden beneath his tough mask. He was too scared to care, because you'd get hurt. He doesn't like emotional pain.

"You like him." He pointed out and I had to laugh.

Me? Like Dally? That'd never happen. Sex wasn't love. It was just a feeling of lust. It was normal; a teen thing. But love? That was powerful. You don't just go loving people, you gotta actually mean it. I hate it when people just throw the word 'love' around like it's a usual thing. But it's not.

"I couldn't love Dallas Winston. His heart's too hot to hold."


End file.
